


Moving On

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: AU/ Future/ pulpverse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:31:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I might as well come right out with it. I’m leaving Melbourne, Jack.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1, Chapter 1: The Announcement

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after Phryne’s return from England. The relationship between Jack and Mac has grown—and so has the relationship between Jack and Phryne.  
> I will be posting in sections, several days apart. Thanks to all the gentle readers who weighed in on this.  
> These characters are not mine, they belong to Kerry Greenwood. They are great fun to borrow.  
> Comments and reviews help me to improve my writing, thanks to all.

Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson was sitting at his desk, looking over a report, when he heard the clicking of high heels coming down the hallway toward his office. It would be a very welcome distraction, he thought to himself. As the door opened, he looked up expectantly. “Miss Fisher,” he said pleasantly.  
“Good morning, Jack,” Phryne said with a sassy smile, but something struck Jack as being just slightly off. He waited to see what came next. “How is your day going?”  
Something was definitely off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Fine…a little on the dull side, to be honest. Something tells me that is about to change,” he said, a teasing light in his eyes.  
“Well…” Phryne glanced away, letting her eyes roam around the office. “I don’t have a case, or anything like that to discuss. It’s actually more of a—personal matter.”  
“Oh?” He waited for her to explain.  
Phryne looked directly at Jack, and he saw something in her eyes that troubled him. She looked away. “I might as well come right out with it. I’m leaving Melbourne, Jack.”  
His eyes widened in surprise. “Leaving?”  
He was thunderstruck, and she knew it. She immediately began to study her manicure, and shrugged; then she gave an amused smile. “Oh, Jack, you know me. I can’t settle down. I’ve been here for years now. It’s time to move on.”  
“Move on,” he echoed.  
She looked back at him, then drug her eyes away again. “Yes. The time I spent in London reminded me of how much I liked it there. I thought I could come back here and be happy, but…” She tossed her head. “You know. I’m just a will-o-the-wisp. Always looking for the next adventure.”  
He was very still. “You’ve found your share of adventures here.”  
“But that can’t go on forever, can it? No. It’s time for a complete change of scene.”  
“I see,” he said, although he didn’t. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes for more than a second at a time. “What will happen to the house then? And I suppose Dot will be fine, if disappointed, but Mr. Butler? The cabbies?”  
“I’ve thought about all that. As you say, Dot will be fine: she doesn’t need me, now. You know Bert and Cec were doing perfectly well before I came along, and now they have a better cab. Aunt Prudence has been wishing to hire Mr. Butler for an age, if that’s his desire. And of course, Jane’s at school, and she has to travel to find me, wherever I might be, so that’s not a problem.”  
He nodded slightly. “Yes. You’ve thought it all through.”  
She smiled tightly. “Yes. Of course. I can easily rent the house, or…sell it…” The smile fell away, then returned. “So—I wanted to come and tell you in person, of course. We’ve had a, a good—partnership….”  
“Yes.” His voice was rough as sandpaper and silky as one of her scarves. “When are you planning on leaving?”  
“Tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow!” Involuntarily, he stood up. “Isn’t this all very sudden?”  
She looked stricken for a bare instant, then recovered. “Yes. It is. Of course it is. But that’s me, you know; I just make a decision and act on it.” She smiled and tossed her head again.  
“Hmm.”  
She gazed at him, across the desk from her; she drank in every bit of him, so familiar to her now. She knew it was time to make her escape. “Well, I’d best be going. I have a lot to do in order to be able to leave on time.” Her eyes were downturned again as she said softly, “Goodbye, Jack. I wish you the best.” She managed to raise her eyes to his once more, hated what she saw there, and turned to leave as quickly as possible.  
“Phryne?”  
She would never forget the way he said her name, never. She froze, her hand on the doorknob, and answered warily, “Yes?”  
“Will you let me know when you arrive safely—wherever you are headed?”  
Still turned away, she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. “Of course,” she lied, then she yanked the door open and fled down the hall. 

Jack sat down at his desk and stared into space.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: The Conference

Jack prowled around his office like a caged tiger for the better part of half an hour, trying to make sense out of what Phryne had told him. Nothing fit. Her carefree manner didn’t ring true. She claimed to have decided this all off the cuff, but had carefully planned for each member of her household. Most of all, it was her eyes, her eyes that gave her away: from the beginning, she and he had communicated more than they meant to, falling deeply into each others’ eyes, and today was no exception. She could hardly look at him, and when she did…  
He couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He picked up the phone and called Mac. She answered almost immediately.   
“It’s Jack,” he said tersely.   
He heard her heavy exhale. “I might have known! Do you read her mind? She just left.”   
“What did she tell you?”   
There was a pause. “Not very much…Do you suppose you could come here?”   
“Yes. Of course. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, grabbed his hat and coat, and swung out of the office, calling out his destination to Senior Constable Collins as he left.   
“Do you need me to come along?” Hugh asked.   
“Not this time.” Jack pushed open the door, and disappeared, leaving Hugh wondering what was going on now. 

Mac met Jack at the door with a serious face. “Mac,” he said.   
“Jack. Come in, have a seat.”   
Jack was not having an easy time of it. “Mac, what’s going on?”   
Mac made a face. “Damned if I know.”   
“Didn’t she tell you anything?” Jack queried.   
“It depends on what you mean by that. It tells me something that she blubbered into my shoulder, for bloody ever, without explaining a thing. Jack, she’s falling apart, but she’s determined to leave, and won’t say why.”   
“There’s something wrong,” Jack said with conviction. “She’s covering something up.” He looked back at Mac. “Did she say anything else, anything at all?”   
Mac looked very directly at Jack. “Yes. She kept saying, ‘Promise me you’ll look after him’.”   
Jack stared at her, his eyes a window to the confusion he was feeling. He didn’t trust himself to answer this yet.   
Mac continued. “What did she say to you?”   
Jack summarized their meeting, finishing by saying, “Mac, nothing she said rang true. For some reason, she feels she must leave—or if that’s a ruse, to make us think she’s leaving—and she doesn’t want anyone to know why.”   
Mac said what he wouldn’t. “And she acted like it didn’t matter to her, so you wouldn’t pursue it.”   
The eyes that met hers were solemn. “Yes,” he said simply.   
Mac looked on sympathetically. “So what do we do?”   
“I think I should head over to the house and try to pin her down, see if I can get more information out of her. Maybe we can prevent her from leaving tomorrow if we get the true story.”   
“I’ll come, too,” Mac said. Jack did not dissent.  
They both grabbed their belongings, and climbed into the police cruiser to find Phryne, and perhaps some answers.


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: The Family

Jack and Mac pulled up to Wardlow and jumped out of the police cruiser. They stepped briskly up to the front door and waited for Mr. Butler to answer.  
Mr. Butler seemed relieved to see them. “Inspector Robinson! Doctor MacMillan! Come in!” he said, waving them into the foyer.  
“Will you tell Miss Fisher we’re here, please, Mr. Butler?” Jack said shortly.  
“I’m sorry, sir. She seems to have…left.”  
“Left? Already?” Jack stared at Mr. Butler in shock.  
Mac swore. “Damn it. She never meant to leave tomorrow. She thought she could fool us into taking our time.”  
“And she did.” Jack wanted to curse as well. “Mr. Butler, did she speak to you? What did she say?”  
“She didn’t, sir. I came back from the grocer to find this note on the table.”  
He pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to Jack. 

“Dear Mr. Butler,  
Thank you so much for everything you have done for me while in my employ. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect match to my household.  
I’m sorry to have to leave so suddenly, but something has come up and I must go.  
Please close up the house, as if for an extended absence, and please distribute the letters on the table to Dot, to Bert and to Cec. When you have done that, there is one more letter for my aunt Prudence Stanley. Please deliver it personally; I know she would love to hire you, if you wish to work for her.  
Many, many thanks,  
Phryne Fisher”

Jack read the note and handed it to Mac with a frustrated frown. “Thank you for sharing this with us, Mr. Butler,” he said as Mac read.  
“Do you know any more details, Inspector? Did you receive a letter as well?”  
“No. No, she came to my office.” As Mac handed the letter back to Mr. Butler, Jack went on, “She didn’t really explain anything, just told me she was leaving.”  
“And she gave no reason?” Mr. Butler asked.  
“No, just that she was—bored, I suppose.”  
“Which is not true,” Mac insisted. Jack smiled a bit at that.  
“So you suspect that there is something else going on, sir?” Mr. Butler continued.  
“I do, but I’m at a loss to say what it is.” Jack reflected for a moment. “Have you delivered the other letters yet?”  
“No, I just got home and read the letter that Miss Fisher left for me. Mrs. Collins was planning to come a little later today, and Mr. Yates and Mr. Johnson will probably be by soon. Do you think we should open the other letters, sir?”  
Jack shook his head. “I doubt she left any more information for anyone else, but possibly, all the letters put together might tell us something. We can wait for the others to arrive, if you expect them soon.”  
Jack and Mac and Mr. Butler stood in the foyer, undecided about their next move. “Shall I make some tea?” Mr. Butler suggested.  
Jack and Mac answered simultaneously.  
“Yes,” Mac said.  
“No, that’s not necessary,” Jack said. They looked at each other in puzzlement.  
Mac declared, “I, for one, would love some tea. And when the others come, they will want something too.” Jack shrugged, and Mr. Butler smiled and headed for the kitchen. 

Dot was the first to arrive. “Well! This is a surprise,” she said pleasantly when she saw Mac and Jack sitting in the kitchen; but when she saw the serious expressions on their faces, she took a deep breath. “Is Miss Fisher all right? Is she in some kind of trouble?”  
Mac answered. “We don’t know, but she left you a letter. We’d like you to read it, and if you will, share it with us.”  
“All right,” Dot said, and opened the letter Mr. Butler offered somewhat hesitantly.  
Jack, Mac and Mr. Butler watched Dot’s expression change as she read through the letter. When she was finished, she handed it blindly to Jack as she blinked back tears. 

“Dearest Dot,  
I never guessed, when I handed you my card at Lydia Andrews’ house, how much I would enjoy coming to know you. You have been my companion, my fellow sleuth and most of all, my friend—and you made me happy. I’m so sorry that I must leave suddenly, and I will miss you. I know that you will have a happy life with Hugh, and I wish you both the best! Keep an eye on things at City South for me, and perhaps when you make biscuits for Hugh, you might include a few extra for Inspector Robinson. Thank you, dear Dot, for everything.  
Yours always,  
Phryne” 

“What does it mean, Inspector? Why would she do this, without telling me? Did you know—” She stopped. The Inspector’s face was impassive, as he had trained himself to be, but something in his eyes made Dot hesitate to go on. He handed the note to Mac, who read it silently, glanced up at Jack who looked away, and handed the note to Mr. Butler. Mr. Butler was pleased to be included, and read the note attentively before handing it back to Dot. Dot folded it and put it carefully in her pocket.  
“Nothing,” Mac said. “Only ‘must leave suddenly’, and that isn’t any help at all.”  
Jack was about to answer when he heard the cabbies making their boisterous way through the garden. They, like Dot, received letters, and again, Phryne had written heartfelt gratitude to each—and asked Bert to look after Aunt Prudence—but there was no real explanation of what was happening. Everyone who had received a letter shared it with all the others. 

Jack rose and stared out the window, hands in his pockets.  
Mac scowled. “This is useless. There’s nothing here that will help us.”  
“No,” said Jack. “She’s too smart to give herself away.”  
He turned back to the group abruptly, and shook his head. “I’m going to have a devil of a time finding her.” 

The cabbies were first to look up and grin. The Inspector didn’t seem to harbor any doubt that he could do it.  
“That’s right, Inspector,” Cec said in his quiet way.  
“You will find her,” Bert said, “And we’ll help.”  
Dot brightened a little. “I’ll read the letters over again, and let you know if I see anything we’ve missed.”  
Mr. Butler added, “There is still one more letter, for Mrs. Stanley. I could take it to her.”  
“We’ll drive you,” said Bert. “Inspector, you can ride along.”  
“Don’t forget about me!” Mac said. “Aunt Prudence _adores_ me.” It was ridiculous and unexpected, and just what they all needed.


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4: The Manor

Bert, Cec, Mr. Butler, Jack, and Mac piled into the cab, while Dot stayed behind to pore over the letters and look after the house.  
The drive to Aunt Prudence’s stately home was brief—though within the speed limit, Jack was relieved to notice. Bert was sure that they would find Mrs. Stanley at home, and he was proven right. “She’d hate to miss teatime,” he said. 

Prudence heard a car pulling in, and looked out the window to see the familiar cab. She was accustomed to seeing the cabbies from time to time, but they had never brought passengers before. Inspector Robinson was first out of the back of the cab, and he turned and offered his hand to Doctor MacMillan, who rolled her eyes, ignored it, and strode past him. Mr. Butler came around from the other side of the cab.  
“What is all this about?” Prudence asked imperiously.  
“Mrs. Stanley, your niece has left town suddenly and mysteriously, and we are trying to find out what has happened,” Jack explained.  
“Phryne? Left? But why?” Prudence asked. “She’s hardly gotten back to Melbourne, why would she leave?”  
Mac handed her the letter addressed to her. “We are hoping there may be something in this letter that will help us figure it out,” Mac said.  
“I see. You had all better come and sit in the parlour,” Prudence directed, looking warily at the letter. Reluctantly, she produced a silver letter opener, and sliced the letter open. She read it through. 

“Dear Aunt Prudence,  
I am sorry I didn’t have time to visit you in person before I left. Something has come up, and I must leave town.  
I have been so happy to learn to know you better since I came back to Melbourne. I could never have imagined that you and I would find so many mysteries to solve.  
I know that Bert will look in on you from time to time, and I know that you will look after him, in your way. I assume that Mr. Butler has brought this letter to you: I have asked him to close up my house, and when that is done, you are welcome to hire him. I know you have wished to do so for quite some time now, so this is your opportunity. It will please me to know that there is a position instantly available to him, if he chooses it.  
Sincerely,  
Phryne”

Prudence was astonished. “But she doesn’t explain at all!”  
“Will you share the letter with us, ma’am?” Jack asked gently.  
“Oh. Yes, of course, Inspector,” she said. He rose and took the letter from her. He read it, then passed it to Mac, who passed it on to the others.  
“Mrs. Stanley, would you allow me to keep this letter?” Jack asked. “I’ll make sure it is returned to you when I’m finished with it. I’d like to compare all the letters to see if we can find any connection, or anything she has given away.”  
“You may take it. Anything, if it will help you find Phryne.” Prudence wrung her hands. She saw that Mr. Butler had just handed the letter to the Inspector, and told him, “Mr. Butler, if we have not found her by the time you get the house closed up, you may come to work for me. I want you to know that.”  
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said politely. He looked toward the Inspector. “Perhaps I should not close up the house too hastily?”  
Mr. Butler’s quick assessment of the situation and his clever choice of words brought the tiniest smile to Inspector Robinson’s face. “Perhaps not, Mr. Butler. You may want to take your time—make sure that everything is done just right.”  
The little group took their hope where they could find it, including Aunt Prudence. Their collective mood lightened just a bit. 

“Maybe we should get on back, make sure Dottie’s okay,” Cec suggested. “She might’ve found something. She’s a sharp one.”  
There was general assent. Everyone rose and walked toward the door.  
Prudence walked up to Jack before he could leave. “Inspector, please let me know if you find out anything, anything at all.”  
“Of course,” Jack said kindly. “I know it is important to you to find her.”  
Prudence nodded. “And feel free to call on me, if I can help in any way.”  
“Thank you. I will,” Jack said, then turned and left.  
Prudence watched as he walked to the cab and got in. She admitted for once that she was grateful that Inspector Robinson was in charge. “It is not only important to _me_ to find Phryne,” she thought as the cab pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends the first posting.


	5. Part 1, Chapter 5: The Dinner

On arriving back at Wardlow, the group found that Hugh had joined Dot and was looking over the letters.   
“Collins! Good man,” Jack said.   
Hugh smiled at the acknowledgement. “But we haven’t found anything, sir,” he said with regret.   
Mac offered them the letter from Aunt Prudence. “Here’s Mrs. Stanley’s letter. Doesn’t offer any more help than any of the rest, as far as I can see.”   
As they were examining the latest addition to the collection of letters, Mr. Butler said, “I have a fine roast that will spoil if I don’t prepare it. I think it would be best if I were to prepare the dinner I had planned for this evening.”   
Jack demurred, “I don’t want to take advantage,” but was roundly shouted down.   
Mac sidled up to him, and said in a low voice, “It’s not as if you don’t enjoy dinner here regularly. Besides, when did you eat last?”   
Her question had the desired effect. Jack was stopped in his tracks, trying to remember when he had, in fact, eaten last. In the meantime, everyone set to doing what they could to help Mr. Butler, and Mac and Hugh carried all the letters to the parlour.   
“Did Dot find any clues in the letters, Hugh?” Mac asked.   
“No, neither of us saw anything,” Hugh said, disappointed. They sat down to take another look.  
Jack prowled around the familiar room, finally stopping near the large window and staring out, unseeing. Suddenly, he said, “Excuse me,” and left the room. Mac and Hugh continued to scrutinize the letters. 

In time, Mr. Butler called them all to dinner, and everyone sat down together. One chair was empty.  
“Where’s the Inspector?” Dottie asked.   
Hugh and Mac were mystified. “He left the room when we were looking over the letters again…I thought he came out here,” said Hugh.   
“Well, we can’t lose him, too,” said Mac.   
Mr. Butler said, “I believe I saw him step out into the garden.”   
Mac stood. “I’ll go after him. The rest of you, go ahead and enjoy your food.” 

Mac walked into the lovely garden. Jack was nowhere in evidence, but Mac thought she knew where to find him.   
When she entered the garage, she saw him standing, silent, staring sadly at the Hispano in all its glory. She couldn’t imagine what must be going through his head—and she knew he would never tell her.   
He never turned or acknowledged her entry, but said simply, “It’s all wrong, Mac.”   
She nodded. “Come and eat.”  
“I don’t feel much like eating…”   
“Do it anyway.” Mac was firm. “We need to stick together.”   
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She opened the door and gestured, and he came, took hold of the door and waited as she went through. They walked without speaking through the garden to the house, and sat and joined the rest for dinner.


	6. Part 1, Chapter 6: The Proper Procedure

The dinner conversation that evening was peppered with ideas about where Miss Fisher may have gone. Everyone seemed to have an opinion and was anxious to express it; all but one, that is, and Mac made sure to point it out when the rest had had their say.  
“Well, Inspector? What are you thinking about all of this?”  
Jack looked at the crowd around the table. “I think it’s time for some old-fashioned police work. There doesn’t appear to be any clue in the wording of any of the letters, and the paper is all her own stationery, so that doesn’t tell us anything. Collins, tomorrow we’ll start with the train schedules—every departure from Melbourne. We know approximately when she left. We’ll need a photo to use—that shouldn’t be a problem, she’s in the newspapers regularly…”  
“I can find one, Inspector,” Dot said. “I was keeping a scrapbook for her.”  
“Good!” Jack said. “A photo of her face, especially. We’ll show it around—someone will have noticed her.”  
“Yes, sir,” Hugh said. “Dottie, we can pick one out tonight.”  
“Let’s go do it right now,” Dot said, and the two left the table to go home.  
Jack turned to the cabbies. “You can try to find out who took her to the train. Use your connections with other cab drivers.”  
“Sure, they’ll all know her. We’ll find out who drove her and when,” Bert said confidently. Cec nodded. They rose to leave.  
“Mr. Butler, you can begin planning to close up the house, but don’t do too much in that direction just yet. Get in touch with me if you find anything that will help.”  
“Of course, sir,” Mr. Butler said, moving to the kitchen to clean up after the meal.  
“Well, you certainly gave all of them their marching orders,” Mac grinned. “What about me?”  
Jack sighed. “The best thing you can do is go back over all the things she said to you earlier—”  
“Mostly blubbering, I believe I told you.”  
“Even so. Just see if anything comes to you,” Jack instructed.  
Mac stood up. “All right. Why don’t you drive me home.”  
The two headed down the hall and past the parlour, and after calling out their good-nights to Mr. Butler, they left.  
As they drove along, Mac asked, “So now that we all have our instructions, what will _you_ do?”  
They pulled up at Mac’s address. “Can I walk you to the door?” Jack asked.  
“Not necessary,” Mac said. “But you’re evading the question, Inspector. What will you do?”  
“Tonight? Lose myself in a bottle of whiskey, I expect,” Jack said bluntly.  
Mac got out of the car and gave him an impish look. “As a doctor, I must tell you not to overdo. But if anyone needs it, I’d say it’s you. Just don’t try that hair of the dog business in the morning, it never works.” She turned and left to go inside.


	7. Part 1, Chapter 7: The New Direction

The next morning, Jack and Hugh met at the doors to City South. “Good morning, sir,” Hugh called out pleasantly.  
“I hope so, Collins,” Jack said, reminding Hugh that they had their work cut out for them to track down Miss Fisher. 

Hugh checked on all trains departing during the appropriate time period. He had a good photo that he and Dot had selected from Dot’s collection of newspaper articles. He talked to ticket takers, conductors, baggage handlers, and even engineers. It was slow and painstaking work. 

Jack went to the hangar where Phryne used to store her airplane. She never brought it back from England, but it had occurred to Jack as he thought about it the night before (during which he did _not_ overdo the whiskey) that she might have gotten another. He followed up every avenue of inquiry, and came up with nothing.  
Jack returned to City South, and found Hugh waiting impatiently. “Sir! I’m glad you’re back! I found someone who remembered her, and I found out where the train was headed.”  
“Good work!” Jack said, clapping Hugh on the arm. “Where did she go?”  
“Shepparton,” Hugh answered proudly.  
“And…the person you spoke to is sure of this? You know she is too clever to make it easy to find her.”  
“The person I spoke to is sure, but he doesn’t know where she went from there.” Hugh’s face fell a bit. “It still helps, though, doesn’t it?”  
“Of course!” Jack assured Hugh. “But I’m not going to be able to investigate anything that far away…Time to call in reinforcements, Collins.”  
“Reinforcements, sir?”  
Jack nodded. “Mrs. Stanley told us to call on her if we needed anything. I believe I need her to file a missing persons report.”  
Hugh looked confused. The Inspector took pity on him. “So that I can follow up on your lead,” he reminded Hugh. “I can’t run off to Shepparton without following procedures.”  
“Oh! Of course!”  
“I’ll be back shortly,” Jack said, swinging back out to the police cruiser and driving away. 

Jack rang at the stately front door at Prudence Stanley’s home. The butler came to answer. Although Mrs. Stanley did seem to run through staff fairly quickly, this one had been around long enough to recognize the Senior Detective Inspector, and he went to announce Jack to Mrs. Stanley. She came to see him within a few minutes.  
“Inspector! Do you have news of Phryne already?” Prudence asked.  
“No, although it appears that we have discovered her first destination,” Jack answered.  
“First destination?” Prudence wondered.  
“Yes. I will be very surprised if she stayed in town at the first stop. I rather expect that she will have switched trains a few times, and to track her down, I will need your help, Mrs. Stanley.”  
Prudence was not sure how she could help, and she told Jack as much.  
“I need you to file a missing-persons report,” Jack explained.  
“Oh. Of course. But how will that help? You already know she is missing, and for how long.” It seemed like silly bureaucracy to Prudence.  
“Yes, I do, but in order for me to investigate outside Melbourne, I need to open a case, and in order to do that, I need to have you file a report. Then I will be able to follow her trail, to Shepparton and wherever she may have gone after that. I’ve brought the paperwork for you to fill out right here, if you are willing.” Jack pulled papers from his briefcase and handed them to Mrs. Stanley.  
“I see. All right, Inspector. Please have a seat in the parlour while I fill this out,” Prudence said. She set to work, and in no time, was signing her name with a flourish. “There,” she said, and handed the forms to Jack.  
“Thank you, Mrs. Stanley,” Jack said gratefully.  
“I’ll be happy to use my influence to help if necessary. If there is anything else I can do, please call on me again,” Prudence insisted.  
“I will, if I need to,” Jack said seriously. “For now, this should be enough.” He put the papers back in his briefcase, and left. 

Once all the proper paperwork was underway, Jack started to make plans to follow Phryne’s trail.  
“Shall I come, too, sir?” asked Hugh.  
Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry, Collins, but you’re too important to me right here. I hope to be back soon, but I may be gone overnight or even a few days if I get to following a series of train connections. I don’t expect Miss Fisher will have made it easy for us.”  
“And still no idea why she would leave, sir?”  
“I’m afraid not.” Jack grabbed his coat and hat, and walked toward the door to continue his search for a woman who did not appear to want to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a lot of exposition and a few red herrings and even a MacGuffin or two! If you’re still with me at this point, please hang in there. The next chapter is titled “The Discovery”, and if I had subtitled it, I’d call it “Jack turns up the heat.”   
> Comments desired. See you next time.


	8. Part 2, Chapter 1: The Discovery

It was only 11:30 p.m., yet Phryne tossed and turned. She had booked the best suite of rooms the hotel had to offer, but she couldn’t seem to settle down. Since nothing much seemed to interest her, she had given up and gone to bed. She hoped she might at least catch up on some of her missed sleep, but she could not break free from her worries.  
It was always the same: she went over and over how disappointed everyone must be in her, and then for the grand finale, she conjured up all her memories of Jack, through all the time she had known him, through all their shared adventures, through all their private moments—and then, she ended by remembering his face as she left, to add one last dagger to her punishment. At last, she would fall into a restless sleep, as she had tonight. But this time, a noise poked at the edge of her consciousness.  
She listened. The door to the suite was quietly opening, voices murmured in the hall, and then the door was closed. Someone was in her suite.  
She lay still and tried not to panic. He had never said he would try to injure _her_! It was the others she was so worried about. Was this to be part of the torture, then, that he would try to do away with her, leaving her to realize that she had hurt everyone she cared for, and could never make things right?

She didn’t know where her gun was. It was in her purse, of course, but where had she left that? She had been distracted, and sloppy about her personal safety. She decided that if she was very still, she might fool the intruder into thinking she was asleep, and then she could take him by surprise. 

The door opened, but a familiar figure stood framed in the doorway, motionless, unafraid. “Phryne?” he said gently.  
At the sound of his voice, her eyes flew open. “Jack! Oh, no, Jack!” She bolted upright. “Oh, nooo, what are you doing here?”  
She looked the very picture of misery. He couldn’t stand it. “Phryne, what’s going on?”  
Her face crumpled up and she curled into a ball. “No. No, Jack, you shouldn’t be here…Someone could have seen, oh, Jack…”  
He came to the side of the bed, sat down and pulled her into his arms. “Phryne,” he said, firmly, “You have to tell me what’s wrong.”  
She sagged in his embrace, and clutched at him, and he held her until her shuddering subsided. He stroked her back; the fine satin of her nightgown floated against his hands, and her skin felt no less satiny to him. One hand slid up to cradle her head, and the soft black strands of her hair were silken between his long fingers. At last she quieted, and her fingers were sliding around to his shoulders, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek. She looked up, and her eyes were endlessly open to him, pools of darkness. 

He had meant to ply her for information, but the only thought in his head now was to kiss her, to kiss away whatever sadness had brought her here. At the moment his lips touched hers, she surged toward him, kissing him deeper and deeper, and trying to obliterate any space at all between them. He was vaguely aware that it was never part of his plan to let her slide his jacket off his shoulders, or unbutton his waistcoat, or loosen his tie and open his shirt. He couldn’t remember doing so, but he must have knocked his shoes off, of his own volition. In the back of his consciousness, he realized that he had not meant to let her pull him down to her in her bed, nor intended to slide his fingers inside and under the beautiful satin and lace of her nightgown. His mouth had found its way down her neck, unhurriedly, savoring every inch, before a loud noise from the street startled them both. Phryne jerked away from him in terror.  
“Phryne. It was just a noise outside—probably a car...”  
“No. Jack, you’ve got to leave.”  
“Leave?” It didn’t make sense. “I think you need to tell me what’s got you so frightened.”  
She turned to him, her lower lip trembling. “You’re already in danger being here at all…”  
He pulled away from her now. “What danger? What’s going on?” He saw the misery on her face. “Who is making you so unhappy? Explain it to me. I’ll do all I can to put a stop to it.”  
Phryne’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “I’m so selfish. I just wanted these moments with you, when I should have sent you away immediately.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do.”  
He sat back, plumped a pillow and leaned it against the bedstead. Then he leaned against it himself, and pulled Phryne into his arms. “Tell me,” he said simply.


	9. Part 2, Chapter 2: The Problem

Phryne gazed up at Jack as she curled against him. His plain request—“Tell me”—was almost overpowering in its simplicity. “I shouldn’t,” she said.  
He could sense that she was about to give in. “I think you should. Whatever it is, there’s no need to go it alone.”  
Phryne heaved a huge sigh and slumped against him even more. “But it’s my problem, of my making.”  
“Even so.”  
It still took several moments before she began to speak. “All right. When I’m done, you’ll see why I wanted to do this alone.”  
He waited, and she began to speak.  
“There was a man…in England…He was very, er, taken with me, but I didn’t return the feeling. He kept persisting, and I kept refusing.  
Finally he made an ugly scene at a dinner party. It didn’t bother me, really; terribly _gauche_ but nothing I couldn’t live down.  
I didn’t hear much about him for a while after that, but then he started again, trying to contact me, even coming to my parents’ home to find me. I finally decided I’d better talk to him, and explain that I wasn’t interested, and he should find someone else. So I agreed to see him.  
“He ranted a bit, but my family’s staff were nearby, and I was never afraid. I tried to tell him that I was not available, but he wouldn’t let up. I began to insist that he leave the premises, since his conversation kept going around in circles. He refused, and I called for the butler to help me remove him.” She felt Jack tensing as her story went on, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop it all from spilling from her lips.  
“I went on with my life, and didn’t think about it again, until I heard from him a second time. He came to the house again, and again I made sure the staff stayed near. But this time he wasn’t trying to force himself on me—”  
“Force himself?”  
“Only a metaphor, Jack.” She looked up at him, and smiled, a real smile this time. Dear predictable man.  
“All right. Go on.”  
“This time, he wanted to talk to me about his business. He said that gossip about his confrontation with me had gotten around, and was ruining his business dealings. I found it hard to credit, but he insisted. I told him I was only visiting in England and would be leaving soon, so he needn’t worry. But again, he insisted, and this time he asked me for money, because he blamed me for his business going sour.”  
Jack would have liked to interject, but he remained silent so that she could continue.  
“Of course, I refused. In fact, I claimed that I couldn’t really get my hands on my own money, since it was back here in Melbourne, where I planned to be as soon as possible. Once again, I had to threaten to get the staff involved to get him out of the house, but he gave in and walked out, although he was furious.  
“After that, I was busy with planning my return home. Oh, I was so happy to think of coming back! And there were parties, and dinners, and—it all should have been so lovely. But he contacted me again, this time full of threats. I told him that the staff at my parents’ house knew him, and that I would be in touch with the local police to tell them about his threatening talk. I did go to the police, for all the help they were! Not at _all_ like the Victorian constabulary…” The relief of telling her story was beginning to allow her natural humour to come to the fore. She took a moment to run her fingers down the placket of Jack’s shirt, and slid them inside, while he watched with an amused smile.  
“Get on with your story,” he said gruffly.  
“Oh, fine!” she laughed. She felt lighter than she had in days. “Well, as you know, I returned home from England—”  
“You did indeed.”  
“And was welcomed back heartily.”  
“Yes.”  
“You remember that, too?”  
“I do.”  
“Good. I wouldn’t want it to slip your mind.”  
“Never,” he said, packing tomes of meaning into the one word.  
Her teasing posture slipped a bit. “I won’t ever forget it, either.”  
Jack ran long fingers along her cheek. With regret, he said, “I’m afraid you have a story to finish.”  
She sighed, and nodded. “Yes. But I wish I didn’t.” He said nothing more, so she continued. “About three weeks ago, I began to receive threatening letters from him.”  
“Three weeks ago!”  
“Yes, I know, don’t say it. But I thought I could manage it on my own. After all, I can’t come running to you for every little thing.”  
He rolled his eyes in frustration. “I don’t know why not. Most people would consider threatening letters to be a job for the police.”  
“I’m not most people, Jack.”  
“You certainly are not, Miss Fisher.”  
“Oh, my, I must be in trouble. It’s ages since you’ve Miss-Fishered me when we were alone.”  
“You _are_ in trouble!” He waved his free hand—the one that wasn’t holding her—around the room. “You are in hiding, you are being pursued by someone who has threatened you, and…you take terrible chances. Phryne, what if this madman had succeeded in hurting you?”  
At his question, she looked down and became serious. “But that’s the thing, Jack. He didn’t ever threaten to hurt me.”  
“But then…”  
“He threatened to hurt the people I care about. He said he’d destroy everyone who was important to me here.”  
“Oh.” Jack remembered well how it felt to hear that kind of threat. His anger, normally well controlled, had overcome him when Roberto Salvatore had threatened Phryne. The aching fear that his actions would put _her_ at risk had pushed him over the brink. He hadn’t been able to relax until some weeks after Salvatore was hanged, and even then he remained vigilant.  
“Jack, I had to prevent that from happening! I didn’t know what he would do, if he would actually hurt people or just try to ruin their lives somehow. I couldn’t risk it. I had to protect you—well, everyone, he could have hurt Dot or Mr. Butler or…” She trailed off.  
Jack shifted on the pillow and laid his head against hers. “So you disappeared.”  
“So I disappeared. And I tried _so hard_ , Jack, to cover my traces. I didn’t want you to find me.”  
“As encouraging as that is—”  
“How on earth _did_ you ever find me? And for that matter—after that day in your office—why did you want to?” Her voice was soft with regret. She fingered his shirt again, somewhat absentmindedly this time.  
“I’m afraid you can’t be rid of me quite that easily.” He took her hand and kissed it.  
She moved that hand up to his face. “Thank God.” She kissed him then, soft and slow and full of longing.  
This time, when they moved apart, he said, “We need to plan our next steps. But perhaps tomorrow is soon enough for that.”  
Having finished her narrative, and finding herself nestled in Jack’s arms, Phryne sighed. “Yes. Oh…it seems like such a long time since I could relax…” Her eyes closed as she burrowed closer to him. “I’ll just rest for a moment…”  
Jack stopped talking in order to let her have some peace. He could hear her breathing slowing, and soon he could tell that she was sleeping.  
He suppressed a frustrated sigh. He had been patient for a long time, and he could continue to be patient. Their time would come. For now, it was enough to have the precious gift of Phryne’s complete trust, as she slept in his arms.  
It was no easy task to fall asleep with his treasured lady detective draped about his body, but sleep did eventually overtake him.


	10. Part 2, Chapter 3: The Next Move

Phryne woke first, initially surprised to find herself wrapped in the arms she had been missing. She gave herself a moment to examine the dear man next to her. His beard was a lighter color than his hair, she noted, much the same color as the long eyelashes that swept his cheeks. Much the same as the hair on his chest, visible because of the mostly unbuttoned shirt that he still wore. His braces lay pushed off his shoulders, hanging loose as she had left them when she removed his waistcoat.  
Jack Robinson in disarray was a lovely sight to wake up to.  
She tried to move slowly and carefully so as not to wake him, but he roused immediately. “Phryne?” he asked, looking through slits of eyes at her and smiling. “Morning already?”  
She chuckled softly. “I’m afraid so.” A troubling thought came to her. “You said someone let you in last night?”  
“Mmmmm. The bellman.” Jack’s eyes were closed again. Searching for her had taken its toll.  
“So there’s a danger that he’ll talk.”  
“Hmm? No, I paid him off handsomely. It should keep him quiet for awhile,” Jack said, turning his head on the pillow, eyes still closed.  
“Paid him off? Is that what the Victorian Constabulary does these days? And how handsomely, exactly?”  
“What?” He opened bleary eyes. He was still feeling rather vague but sensed he had made a misstep. “No, not the Constabulary…and not that handsomely, I suppose, but if you consider a policeman’s salary…” No, that was no good, he was making a complete hash of things.  
“Jack! You paid him? That’s ridiculous. You can’t do that.”  
“Too late to tell me that now.” He shook his head to try to clear out the cobwebs. “Sorry. I’m not much use this morning.”  
“Not much use?” She began to laugh helplessly. “Only you would say such a thing…oh, dear Jack…”  
When she stopped laughing, he lifted a hand to her cheek and she turned her face into his palm, where she deposited a kiss. He smiled gently but said what he knew he must. “What do we do now?”  
She frowned. “We should leave. I _had_ hoped he would be watching me, but now it’s the last thing I want.” She moved away from him slightly, then turned back. “But Jack…Once this is over…”  
He nodded, and with a bit of a smile, swung his legs over the side of the bed and started putting himself back together. She was meant to be pulling herself together as well, but found watching him to be far too charming. “I don’t suppose your tie got creased, and you need help with it?”  
“I’ll let you know when I find it,” he answered, poking around the bed, pulling his jacket and waistcoat from the floor as he searched. 

Some time later, Jack and Phryne found themselves seated at a table, sharing breakfast in a café next to the hotel. As they finished the meal with a pot of tea, Phryne asked, “What are you thinking?”  
“Tell me something,” Jack countered.  
“Certainly…what?”  
“Why did you leave? How did you think that would help? If this man is determined to target people you care about, what did you hope to accomplish by leaving?”  
“You think I was wrong to leave.”  
“That’s…not what I’m asking. What did you intend to happen?”  
She sighed softly. “I hoped to lure him away from all of you, and towards me. I thought I could draw him out, have some kind of showdown, stop him from hurting you or any of the others. It doesn’t make much sense, perhaps, but I was just so afraid that I’d ruin your life. I thought, if I could run away, I might drag him with me.  
“When I received the last letter from him, I paid enough money to the person who delivered it to get information about where it came from. So once I got here, I sent word to that address, to draw him here.”  
“Has there been any sign that he is watching you, that he has found you? And this man must have a name: what is it?”  
“Edwards. Reggie Edwards.”  
“And has there been any indication that he has followed you?”  
“No, not so far. I tried to make myself obvious—what’s that smile about?—but I haven’t had any sign that he is here.”  
“I see.” Jack finished his tea. “Phryne, I suggest we go back to Melbourne. Everyone will be glad to take part in helping solve this, and I have jurisdiction there.”  
“I don’t think I can agree,” Phryne said. “I went to a lot of trouble to lure Edwards away, I hate bringing him back to the people I was trying to protect from him.”  
“We can take better care to protect you there,” Jack insisted.  
“But I am not the one in danger! I don’t even like having you here with me now.”  
“Thank you,” he said dryly.  
“I’m serious! He could be planning something against you this very moment. This is exactly what I hoped to avoid.”  
“I know you are serious, and I appreciate that you did all this to keep everyone safe. But if we were back in Melbourne, I would be better equipped to apprehend this man. Your description of him makes me think he is unstable.”  
“You can’t arrest him unless he breaks a law. And by the time he breaks a law, he may have hurt you—or someone else,” she remembered to add.  
“I can’t do _anything_ here, even if he were to walk right up to us!”  
“Jack…you could go back, and run the investigation there…”  
“And leave you here, trying to draw him out? That’s out of the question.”  
Phryne bristled. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”  
“I do know it, but I also know that you are logical.”  
Phryne was appeased, so she quipped, “Now don’t go accusing me of that.”  
He sighed. “All right. You have all the options. What do you choose? Staying here, while I leave and try to look after everyone back in Melbourne? Staying here, with me—powerless—while the others are at risk back home? Or coming back, where we have the upper hand—and you might say, safety in numbers?  
“The choice, as always, is yours.”  
Phryne exhaled dramatically. “Fine. You know I can’t resist you when you do that.”  
“Good. Good. Don’t resist me. And let me help.”  
“You know, when I first met you, I would’ve pegged you as a man who was used to telling women what to do, not offering them choices.”  
“You always were in a hurry to pigeonhole me,” he answered. “But you’re not far wrong. Most of the women I knew expected a man to call the shots.”  
“I imagine that’s true. You know, darling, you’re really more ‘liberal-minded’ than you realize.”  
That phrase reminded him of other moments. “Are you trying to distract me? I’ll admit, it’s working, but we have a criminal to catch.”  
“Yes. We have.” She put down her teacup and prepared to leave. “All right. Let me check out of this hotel, and let’s go home.”


	11. Part 2, Chapter 4: The Return

When the cab pulled up at Wardlow, Mr. Butler was waiting. He noted when the cabbies left to pick up Miss Fisher and the Inspector at the train station. He had stationed himself near the door after an appropriate period of time had elapsed, so that he could open it to welcome them immediately.  
The cabbies leaped out, and Cec opened the back car door. Inspector Robinson stepped out smartly, then turned to hand out the glamourous mistress of 221B The Esplanade. She fairly raced up the steps to see Mr. Butler, who held the door wide open for her. The Inspector and the cabbies followed, with a lightness about them that Mr. Butler had not seen since Miss Fisher disappeared.  
“Mr. Butler!” Phryne gushed with delight.  
“Miss Fisher!” he rejoined. “So good to have you back!”  
“I’m so glad you didn’t get the house all closed up yet,” she said with a happy smile.  
“No, Miss,” Mr. Butler answered, looking past her to the Inspector, who met his eyes but gave no visible response.  
Phryne walked into her parlour. “Oh!” she cried.  
Dot, Mac and Aunt Prudence had conspired as soon as the cabbies told them the Inspector was bringing Miss Fisher back, and they were all on hand in the parlour when she arrived. “Welcome back,” they called out, nearly in unison.  
Jack stepped in behind Phryne, and she turned to him happily, and said, “This is almost better than the day I came home from England!”  
“Almost,” he said with a bit of a smile.  
Phryne made sure that everyone found their way into the parlour. “Mr. Butler, we should have drinks all around!”  
Mac exclaimed, “Phryne! You’re way behind! That was the first thing we thought of!” She lifted a glass off the tray next to her.  
Mr. Butler made his way through the room to raise the tray and distribute drinks to everyone. Once everyone held a glass, Mrs. Stanley surprised everyone by raising hers and stating in no uncertain terms, “To my niece: welcome, welcome home!”  
All glasses were raised, and Phryne went to her aunt to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Aunt P. I’m so happy to be back.”  
“But why did you leave?” Aunt Prudence insisted on knowing.

Phryne took a deep breath, and told the assembly the salient points of the story. When she reached the end, she explained, “That’s why I felt I had to leave, to try to draw him away from you all. I wanted to protect you. I feel so awful that my actions have put you all at risk,” she said sorrowfully.  
Dot spoke up sweetly. “It’s all right, Miss. We’re used to it.”  
“I –What?”  
“Sure. Us too. Remember? I got clubbed over the head the day after we met you,” said Bert. Cec nodded emphatically.  
“After all, Phryne, I have found myself in all manner of peril because of you—or rather, your investigations,” Prudence said, curling her lip at the thought of it.

Phryne was astounded. She had never considered the situation from this perspective.  
She happened to look at Jack. Only someone who knew him well would notice the tiny upturn at one side of his mouth.  
“Oh, that’s just fine,” Phryne sniffed. “And there _you_ are, grinning from ear to ear.”


	12. Part 2, Chapter 5: The Plan

It was determined that they needed a plan to keep everyone safe. Phryne had already notified Jane’s school, to make them aware of the threat. It seemed unlikely she would be endangered, since Reggie would be looking for people in Melbourne. Dot could stay with Mr. Butler during the day, and Hugh could escort her home at the end of his shift each day. Bert and Cec were assigned to stay with Aunt Prudence; even though she had a houseful of staff, they insisted they were needed, and she did not disagree.

Phryne turned to Mac. “You can come stay with me. It’ll be just like the old days.” Mac smiled in agreement.  
At last, Phryne turned to Jack. “That leaves you.”  
“I’ll be fine,” he said resolutely.  
“You can’t stay alone,” said Phryne. “That would be just what Reggie wants.”  
“I can take care of myself,” Jack insisted.  
Phryne huffed. “If it were anyone else, a client, a citizen, you would insist on providing police protection. Besides, you are the weak link in the chain.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You would be the most obvious victim, if he knows anything about me.”  
Jack simply stared at her for a moment, not sure she realized what she had just admitted to the roomful of people. He still wasn’t sure when she went on: “Jack, please. I need to know that you’re safe.”  
He took a step closer to her. “Don’t you see—if I can get him to come after me, then I’ll know _you_ are safe.”  
They had reached an impasse. If it was obvious to the others what Miss Fisher and the Inspector meant to each other, it was just as clear to all that neither one would be backing down.  
“Completely mad,” Mac said. “The both of you.”  
Mr. Butler spoke up, in his inimitable fashion. “Inspector Robinson, if you please, I would be grateful for some assistance here at the house.” The implication hung in the air.  
It wasn’t unreasonable. Mr. Butler would never be unreasonable. As capable as he was, Mr. Butler was older, and probably really would appreciate more hands on deck.  
Jack didn’t abandon his initial plan easily, but—a sort of understanding passed between the two men.  
“There! You see?” Phryne crowed. “You can support Mr. Butler by staying here with Mac and me. No more arguing.”  
Jack knew when he’d been bested. It had become such familiar ground.

According to plan, Phryne sent Dot and Hugh home together, and dispatched the cabbies with Aunt Prudence in tow. Jack and Mac left to collect whatever they needed to stay overnight at Wardlow. Phryne took some time to put away the things she had taken when she ran away from Melbourne. When she was done, she went back downstairs.

At loose ends, and alone for the moment, Phryne came to the kitchen to find Mr. Butler. “Mr. Butler, you are a lifesaver. I don’t know how we could have convinced the Inspector to stay if it hadn’t been for you. I believe I need to raise your pay!”  
Mr. Butler smiled. “I’m paid well enough, Miss. Besides, I would hate to see Inspector Robinson proven right in this instance.”  
“You mean…”  
“He already asked if you paid me a bonus to say that.”  
“Oh! That man!” Phryne said. She shook her head, turned and ran right into Jack, who had just returned with a valise.  
“What man?” he asked.  
“What man? One who drives me mad. No, don’t look at me like that, you’d approve of him. Now bring that bag upstairs and I’ll show you whose rooms are whose.” She started to sashay down the hallway, then stopped and turned with an alluring smile. “You might get confused.”  
He stepped up next to her, leaning close to speak into her ear. “I’m not clear whether that’s a warning or a request.”  
“You’ll work it out,” she purred confidently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having such a grand time with all you readers, with your many encouraging comments and funny remarks (some of them en francais!). Thank you all!  
> This is a short post, so I won't make you wait too long for the next one. See you!


	13. Part 3, Chapter 1:   The House Guests-the first night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the next chapters, filled with three nights of—what? Intrigue? Unbridled passion? Gin rummy?  
> Read on.

Jack, Mac and Phryne shared dinner together, and the three made their way to the parlour afterward. They had spoken of other things during their meal, but now the conversation turned back to Phryne’s disappearance and return. Phryne told Mac a few more details of her problems with Reggie Edwards, but then Phryne had some questions of her own.  
“How did you find me, Jack? You never said. I made sure Reggie knew where I was headed, but I wanted to cover my trail at the same time, to keep you safe…for all the good it did. I certainly _tried_ to make it difficult.”  
“And you certainly did. Fortunately, there was one slip-up on your part that made it easier.”  
“Slip-up?”  
“Typical of the criminal mind,” Jack posited.  
Phryne made a face at him, and Mac laughed. “What was it?”  
“Buying the tickets ahead of time.”  
Mac was shocked. “But wasn’t that easily traceable?”  
“Not as easy as you might think,” Jack said with amusement. “Not for a master of disguise.”  
“Not as easy as he makes it sound!” Phryne insisted. “I had an elaborate plan, in which each ticket was purchased for and claimed by someone under an assumed name—me, of course. How did you ever figure it out?”  
Jack told them the whole story, as follows:

Collins tracked Phryne as far as boarding the train to Shepparton, as herself. On that evidence, Jack travelled to Shepparton to interview the train employees. No one could remember seeing the pretty lady get off the train, and Jack feared he had lost the thread. Unwilling to give up that easily, he challenged the employees to consider if they had seen anyone with jewel-like eyes like hers. At last, one man said he remembered an old lady with beautiful bright eyes, and although she was bent over, she moved so smoothly, almost like a dancer; he had thought it odd.  
From that point, Jack went to inquire if any tickets had been held at the booth. It seemed that an old lady had come to pick up a ticket; her name was Florence Perkins. In one of those serendipitous moments that sometimes happen in investigations, the ticket taker remembered the old lady because the ticket taker’s mother was also named Florence.  
Though sometimes Phryne failed to respect police protocol, Jack’s experience served him well. He knew that many times an alias is chosen for its similarity to the person’s own name. He noted the initials—just like clever Phryne to turn them around.

He followed the trail of Florence Perkins, but it seemed she didn’t get off her train, either. Jack went to the ticket office again, and found that a ticket had been held for another person with those initials. “It can’t be,” he thought; but he found himself asking the conductor, “Do you remember a French passenger named François Patrie? A boy, perhaps?”  
One of the workers on the train had noticed the boy, dressed in loose clothing and wearing a large cap that covered his hair and most of his face. “He didn’t speak any English, only French, so he kept to himself,” the worker explained. “He must have been very young to be travelling alone—his beard hadn’t come in yet.”  
“No. No, I didn’t suppose it would have,” Jack said. He smiled tightly and thanked the man for his help. 

If Jack had doubted himself to that point, he knew he was on the right trail when he discovered a ticket had been collected at the next stop by Psyche Richmond. By all accounts, she was a dowdy woman, nothing to look at, with ill-fitting clothing, somewhat out of style; but something about her had led everyone to take a second look.  
By then, Jack knew he was home free. He found the next name, and reached the destination of that train; at that station, he found that there were no tickets held at the office for anyone recently. He went hopefully to the leading hotel in town and found Phryne. 

As Jack had told the tale, they had all refreshed their drinks frequently, and no one was feeling any pain. Mac had been greatly enjoying all the twists and turns, and especially the names, hooting with laughter at many of them.  
Phryne herself fairly giggled at the way Jack told the story and at Mac’s reactions to the names she had chosen. “And aren’t you going to tell the last name?”  
Jack’s eyes lit with amusement. “I wasn’t sure you would want me to.”  
“Oh, dear! I lagged on myself!” she laughed.  
Mac seized on this immediately. “Spill it, Jack!” she demanded.  
After a dramatic pause, he gave in. “Robin Johnson.”  
It only took a second before Mac howled. Her laughter was contagious; even Jack allowed himself a chuckle.  
Phryne insisted, “I deserve extra points for creativity.”  
Jack gave her that, but suggested, “I think you were running out of ideas. A woman named Robin?”  
“We knew a girl called Robin when we were children—but more important than that, I want to know how she was dressed!” Mac interjected. “Phryne, _please_ tell me you wore a topcoat and a fedora!”  
“Nonsense,” Phryne said resolutely, if tipsily. “No one can pull off the Inspector Robinson look as well as Jack does.”  
Jack looked into his glass. “I must have had too much to drink. That seemed for a moment to make sense.” 

They all felt tired after the hilarity, on top of the tensions of the day. The three decided to call it a day, and made their way up the stairs.  
Mac was billeted in the room that Dot used to use. Phryne accompanied Jack to the guest room where he would stay. “Do you think you’ll be needing anything?” she asked, with an almost bashful air.  
Jack smiled. “I’ll be fine. I believe we are supposed to be watching for an attacker.”  
“Oh, yes, I know,” Phryne said sourly, as if it were an inconvenience rather than a threat. She stroked his lapel. “Good night, Jack,” she said quietly.  
Jack laid his hands on her arms, and said, “Good night, Phryne,” and before he disappeared into his room, he placed a chaste kiss to her forehead that she spent long moments mulling over in the dark night.


	14. Part 3, Chapter 2:  The House Guests-the second night

Phryne and her two houseguests passed a peaceful night. When Phryne woke the next morning, it was only because Dot came bringing tea; Jack and Mac were long gone when Phryne finally rose. 

Phryne kept her distance from the police station and the morgue, and was bored to tears by the time the cabbies brought Mac to Wardlow, after her workday was over. The two shared a drink and settled in together, but Mac noticed her friend’s tense posture. Phryne only relaxed when she heard Mr. Butler greeting the Inspector and Constable Collins some two hours later. The Constable swept his wife away home, according to their plan, leaving his superior officer to fend for himself.

After dinner, it was decided that the three of them should play a card game. Mac loved cards, and the other two grudgingly agreed to give it a try.  
Phryne laughed as Jack lost miserably, several hands in succession. “I can’t believe it! Mac, you should see us playing draughts—I can hardly win a game from this man! But cards are obviously a different story.”  
“I thought you hated playing cards,” Jack said.  
“I like them much better when I’m trouncing _you_ ,” Phryne clarified.  
Jack complained, “There’s no strategy to card games.”  
Phryne grinned. “Not really. Mostly luck.”  
“You seem to have all the luck on your side this evening.”  
“You wouldn’t be suggesting that I might have an unfair advantage, would you, Jack?”  
He peered suspiciously down his nose at her. “No aces up your sleeve?”  
Phryne folded back her sleeves ostentatiously, revealing her elegant arms, turning her hands up and down in display. “No aces. Nothing.” There was a place where she was far more likely to hide things than up her sleeve, and she was fairly sure he was thinking of it. She leaned in. “Do you feel a more thorough search is called for, Inspector?”  
“You know, when I’m with you two, I feel like an afterthought. You do remember I’m here, don’t you?” Mac groused, dealing another round.  
“Of course we do,” Phryne said, almost without looking guilty.  
“I’d remember better if you’d get to work on this game and help me beat Phryne,” Jack proposed, frowning at another dreadful hand.  
Mac smiled wickedly. “I knew there was some reason I liked you.”  
The evening passed pleasantly, although both Jack and Mac had to concede defeat in the end. Once more, they all separated to their private rooms, although Mac made a point to get inside her room with the door closed as quickly as possible, to provide her friends with some privacy. Though they appreciated her delicacy, Jack left Phryne with only a good-night kiss to contemplate, each promising once again to stay vigilant.


	15. Part 3, Chapter 3:  The House Guests-the third night

On their third night together, Jack and Mac and Phryne got into a long and rather complicated discussion of the theories of Charles Darwin, and of the Scopes trial in the States. Each of them had something to contribute. Mac was the expert as far as the science; Phryne was most interested in the effects on the teacher and other people who have beliefs that are outside the mainstream; Jack was fascinated by the trial and how religion and law played out in the case.

After discussing every possible aspect for long hours, the three at last went to their respective rooms. Mac once again moved quickly into her room. Phryne smiled fondly as her friend’s door closed, and reached for Jack. They embraced and enjoyed a kiss, then separated as they had on the other nights.

Phryne went to bed, and fell asleep without too much delay. She was reaching a state of sound sleep when something woke her. She fought her way to consciousness, then sat up and pushed her hair out of her face.  
Had she heard something? She wasn’t certain. She sat still for a few moments more, then got out of bed. She wrapped her favorite dressing gown around her, but left her feet bare, as it was a warm night. She stepped outside her room, listening the whole time.  
Once in the hallway, and having heard nothing, she realized it would be just as sensible to go back to bed. There was nothing to worry about. But something would not let her do that: she had to make sure everything was all right. She walked soundlessly to Jack’s room.  
She crept into the bedroom, silent. She could just make out his sleeping form on the far side of the bed. Slowly, cautiously, she made her way to the nearer side of the bed. He was fine, sleeping peacefully, breathing deeply.  
Phryne stood gazing at him. He sighed in his sleep. Without meaning to, she reached out toward him.  
His hand shot out and grabbed hers, pulling her onto the bed. He was looming over her before she had time to register what was happening. “Wait! Jack! It’s me!” she said in alarm.  
“I might have known,” he said in a silken rasp. “Just passing by, I take it?”  
Phryne huffed a sigh. “Are you always such a light sleeper?”  
“Policeman’s curse, from years of stakeouts. On the other hand, I can nod off at the drop of a hat.”  
Phryne propped up on one elbow, noticing he had not let go of her other hand, though his grip now was gentle. As a sliver of moonlight slanted across the bed, she noticed something else.  
“You’re not wearing a pyjama shirt,” she told him unnecessarily.  
“I wasn’t planning on visitors,” he said shortly.  
“Or maybe…you were.”  
“Or maybe I was.”  
Phryne breathed a little faster at his remark. In the silence, she could hear that his breathing was ragged, too.  
She taunted, “As I told you once, I’ve already had a peek.”  
He knew exactly to what she was alluding. “Did you really undress me, or were you just winding me up? I always wondered.”  
She smiled. “After all, Jack, you have seen _me_ naked.”  
“In a painting!”  
“I assure you, it’s much better in real life.”  
“I’m certain it is.”  
“I meant you.”  
He sighed. “You’re incorrigible.” He bent to meet her lips in a kiss that quickly moved from exploratory to searing. They tasted, tested, savored, sampled. Jack lifted his head for a moment, and asked, “Why tonight, and not before?”  
“I thought I heard a noise.” She laughed at the disbelief on his face. “Really! I did!”  
“In here?”  
“I wasn’t sure. And I couldn’t sleep, not knowing.”  
He smiled reassuringly. “Phryne. I’m fine. Everyone is—” He stopped. They both went still at the sound they heard.  
“That’s it! Jack—”  
He transformed instantly. “I think it came from just below us. Get your gun, and wake Mac. In that order. Then meet me downstairs—you take the back way.” He rolled away from her. Being Jack Robinson, he had left a dressing gown close at hand in case he needed to investigate. He put it on and shoved his feet into shoes.  
Phryne was all business now, and moved quickly out of the bed. “Do you have your gun?” she whispered.  
“Right here,” he said, pulling it from a drawer where it had been concealed.  
Phryne prepared to leave the room, adrenaline flowing. She was primed and ready to do her part, though she was disheveled from the passionate moments that had been once again interrupted. “Jack, be careful,” she implored.  
The lover was gone now, he was fully a policeman on the hunt: yet he took a moment to stroke her arm. “You be careful, too.”  
She nodded, then they each left the room, purposefully heading in different directions.


	16. Part 3, Chapter 4:  The Yawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A freak snowstorm allowed me to come home from work early, and to post the final installments of this story!

Jack headed down the stairs slowly, remembering to avoid the tread that squeaked. There was no one in the foyer, so he moved carefully into the parlour, where he found himself facing a man carrying a gun, having entered the parlour through the opposite door. With his own gun pointed at the intruder, Jack said softly but with authority, “Drop the gun, Edwards.”  
The man flinched. “How do you know who I am?” He peered at Jack. “Oh. You’re the detective. Staying overnight, at that? Wonderful,” Reggie sneered.  
Jack said calmly, “Why don’t you put the gun down? It’s time to end this.”  
Edwards snarled, “I have to see Phryne. I want her to pay for what she did to me.”  
Jack kept his eyes locked on his opponent, although he was completely aware that Phryne was making her way into the parlour from behind Edwards. He prayed she wouldn’t take the bait, but that wasn’t Phryne’s way.  
“Fine. You can see me. I’m right here,” she jeered. Her gun was pointed right at him.  
Jack’s heart sank. No good, she was too far from Edwards. Reggie turned to her, then whipped back to aim his gun at Jack.  
Phryne realized her misstep, but all she could do was make the best of it. “You’re outnumbered, Reggie,” she said confidently. “You can’t shoot us both. Put the gun down and give this up.”  
Reggie looked wildly from Phryne to the man he knew to be the detective who was so important to her. “No, I can’t shoot you both. But I can shoot him,” Reggie taunted, “and hurt you at the same time.” He aimed his gun right at the Inspector’s chest.  
“I don’t think you want to do that,” Jack said evenly. “You haven’t committed any serious crimes yet, only made threats.” He moved toward Reggie, with his gun in one hand, and his other hand held out, open. “If you give me the gun now—”  
“Don’t move!” Reggie yelled, the gun wavering in his hand.  
Obligingly, Jack froze in place, a few steps closer than he had been. Just a little more…  
Phryne appeared calm, though at great personal cost. “Reggie, please give this up,” she entreated. The sense of pleading in her words to him was not entirely an act. When she spoke, Reggie turned his attention to her, just as she had intended. Jack recognized her cue and moved infinitesimally, imperceptibly closer to the gun that Reggie had pointed toward him. It was almost enough…  
Suddenly, Mac appeared in the doorway, yawning an enormous yawn, and saying, “What’s going on down here?”  
Reggie’s attention was diverted for the moment Jack needed. He lunged at the gun in Reggie’s hand and forced its muzzle toward the floor. Reggie managed to fire a shot, despite his shock, but the bullet lodged in the baseboard, harmless. Jack pushed him to the floor, grabbing his gun away. Phryne kept her pistol trained on Reggie throughout.  
Having heard the commotion, Mr. Butler appeared to help the Inspector contain the intruder. With everything under control, Phryne went to call City South. Mac sat down heavily in the nearest armchair.

In short order, a constable from City South, who was not Hugh Collins, arrived at the front door. He kept a straight face, though his eyes revealed his shock at finding a criminal taken prisoner by none other than his Senior Detective Inspector, who was wearing a dressing gown and pyjamas, in this house which clearly did not belong to him. The Inspector was as businesslike as he would have been in his office, as he delivered a succinct rundown of the man’s crimes and gave the constable orders to put Reggie in a cell. He made sure Reggie was secured in the back of the police cruiser before coming back inside to join Mac and Phryne.

When Jack returned to the parlour, Phryne was taking Mac to task.  
“Mac, that was very dangerous! What were you thinking?” Phryne chided.  
“Mac. Did you stage that?” Jack asked.  
“Of course she did. She came downstairs with me, just as you and I agreed,” Phryne fussed. “I told her to wait around the corner. And then she decided to do—that.”  
“You and Jack do this sort of thing all the time. I thought I could help,” Mac said. “Turns out, it’s utterly terrifying.” She looked quizzically at both of them, then turned to Jack. “I only thought I knew what you do for a living. How do you do that day after day?” Then she turned to Phryne. “And you—you don’t have to do it at all. But you go out of your way to find trouble.”  
“It finds me,” Phryne insisted.  
“It’s not every day that people point guns at us,” Jack said, as if that explained it.  
“Once is enough for me,” Mac said. “I’m going back to bed. You two should do the same.” She exited the room. 

Her words left Jack and Phryne looking comically at each other.  
“Doctor’s orders?” asked Jack.  
“Practically a prescription.” Phryne’s eyes gleamed in the dim light.  
Jack regretfully brought them back to reality. “You know very well that I have to go to the station.”  
“I know.” She glittered up at him. “We’ll have to take our medicine another time, then.”


	17. Part 3, Chapter 5:  Another Dinner

The threat that Reggie Edwards had brought to Phryne’s life was now neutralized. Phryne decided to invite everyone to dinner as thanks for all they had done, and for their bravery. Mr. Butler was in his element planning and preparing _haute cuisine_ for all of the people who had helped to solve the case and to bring Miss Fisher back home again.  
Phryne had invited everyone to come for dinner at 8—save one, who was invited for cocktails at 7.

Sadly, there was trouble at City South: a fight in one of the cells left both participants bloodied before they could be separated, which also left several constables and a detective inspector stained with blood. It was half seven before Jack could get cleaned up suitably, and he arrived at Wardlow as soon after that as he could. Mr. Butler welcomed him and announced him, then repaired to the kitchen to apply the finishing touches to the evening’s meal.  
Phryne welcomed Jack with a drink. “Sounds like a miserable end to the day.”  
“More messy than miserable,” Jack said. “Both prisoners will be fine, although I can’t say the same for my shirt.”  
Phryne made a sympathetic face. “Doesn’t the Victorian Constabulary owe you some money?”  
He looked at her oddly. “I don’t think so…unless you’re suggesting I’m worth more than they pay me.”  
“You definitely are, and I definitely am. But I meant that you paid off that bellman back at the hotel where you found me.”  
“Ah.” Jack shook his head. “The less said about that, the better.”  
“What? Why? That’s not fair!” Phryne protested.  
“Not at all. I’m happy to pay it to avoid having to explain too much about tracking you to a hotel far from Melbourne and City South. I’d sooner Russell Street never gets wind of it.”  
“Oh, dear.” Phryne sighed. “I’m always getting you in hot water.” She held up her glass. “To bribable bellmen. And to relentless detectives.”  
“Are there a lot of those, then?”  
She shrugged. “I can’t say about the bellmen. They’re on their own. But there’s only one relentless detective I know.”  
“And…you’re not referring to yourself?”  
She laughed with pleasure. “No, I’ll leave it to you to be the relentless one. I rather prefer being the reckless one.”  
He looked pained, and she smiled up at him unrepentantly.  
“About that, Phryne,” Jack said, looking earnestly into her eyes.  
She sparkled. “Yes, Jack?”  
“Promise me you will _never_ try to do a thing like this again without telling me—”  
“Jack, I never meant to—”  
“Phryne, you could have been—”  
“But _you_ would have been all right—”  
“I wouldn’t have, how could you even think—”  
“Darlings! Eventually one of you will have to finish a sentence,” Mac observed from her vantage point at the door to the parlour. She walked into the room where they stood, nose to nose.  
“Mac! Where did you come from?”  
Mac rolled her eyes. “You invited me. Along with all the other fine people who are arriving.”  
Phryne and Jack had been so consumed by their heartfelt, if fragmentary, conversation that they had not paid attention to the opening of the front door. After Mac, Hugh arrived, and Dot came to the door of the kitchen. Hugh walked down the hallway to meet her, and when they stepped around the corner for a moment together, everyone pretended not to notice. The cabbies pulled up just as Aunt Prudence came up the walk, having just left a charity board meeting nearby. Bert offered her an arm as they walked to the door. Cec grinned and followed one step behind. There was much happy commotion as everyone made their way inside, anticipating the celebration of the end of this case, which had begun so many days ago with Phryne’s puzzling disappearance.


	18. Part 3, Chapter 6:  The Dessert

Everyone enjoyed every part of the meal, as well as the rehashing of all the events that had been a part of this latest adventure. At long last, Mac said to everyone gathered, “I am still exhausted from last night. It turns out that making yourself a distraction for a man with a gun is very tiring!” She was rewarded with the laughter she expected. “Phryne, thank you for dinner. I’m done in. Good night, everyone!” She rose from the table.  
Dot was next. “I’m awfully tired, too, although I wasn’t near any guns this time. I don’t know what it is, life seems to wear me out lately.”  
Hugh smiled indulgently. “You work hard, Dottie, and you were worried about Miss Fisher. A good night’s sleep will help.” They also rose from the table.  
Cec, taciturn as always, said simply, “Alice is waiting. I’d better head along home.”  
Bert spoke up, “Well, that’s me, too, if you’re leaving. Mrs. Stanley, can we give you a ride home?”  
“That would be lovely,” Aunt Prudence effused, pleased to be included by the men she had once considered to be roughnecks. 

Phryne rose and went to the door to say good night to everyone as they left. Jack stood a few steps away.  
Aunt Prudence was the last out the door. She took Phryne’s arm and pulled her down for a kiss, which was warmly reciprocated. “I’m so glad you are safely home again, dear.” 

She turned to Jack, who was observing them with a slight smile, but who was startled nonetheless when Mrs. Stanley addressed him directly. Prudence lifted her chin, and said in her proper way, “Inspector Robinson, I appreciate all that you did to find Phryne.”  
She had the satisfaction of seeing the object of her comment rocked slightly off-balance for once. “Why, of course, Mrs. Stanley. There’s no need for thanks.”  
Prudence fixed him with a steely gaze. “I _hope_ you’ll do a better job of keeping track of her in future.” Then she gave Phryne a pat on the arm, and sailed out to the cab that had just pulled up. Jack and Phryne were left behind, gaping in astonishment.

Phryne gave her head a shake. “Jack—is it possible that Aunt Prudence just gave us her blessing?”  
“Hm.” Jack considered. “I believe there’s a way to test that hypothesis.”  
“And what might that be, Professor?”  
He stepped closer to her. “If I were to attempt to kiss you—right here, in the foyer—”  
“And if she didn’t suddenly turn up to interrupt us—” Phryne tilted her face up. “An experiment, of sorts?”  
“Mmmm,” said the Inspector, who was suddenly very interested in pursuing the scientific method.  
Phryne agreed heartily. She stepped into his embrace, and there was no knock at the door, no interruption, no audience at all…as far as they knew. Mr. Butler, coming upon them unaware, applauded silently and returned the way he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends our tale.   
> Gentle readers, you've been such fun! Thanks so much.


End file.
